


You Are Ice and Fire

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-03
Updated: 2006-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radek straightens, and that's when he hears it, the slightest shift in the constant hum of Atlantis from something pleasantly mechanical (well, pleasant to the ears of an engineer anyway) to something alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Ice and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by the wonderful cosmonaut_elf and set sometime during the second season. Written for the prompt 'Sixth Sense' from philosophy_20.

At first, Radek is pleased by the warmth. He has always thought the science labs were a bit chilly, even if Rodney never thought so, and perhaps this was the gene therapy kicking in, turning up the heat a little as a way of welcoming him into the privileged class of the gene-carriers. 

He cannot fight back the pleased little smile, although the grin earns him an odd look from Kusanagi and Rodney even as he peels off his jacket and tugs a little on the neck of his shirt. He just directs the smile at them both and cheerfully adds in his own opinion on what is causing the unusually high energy consumption on Level Two. 

That gets them back on track, and Rodney’s face is bright and brilliant with his latest theory as his fingers fly across his keyboard. The theory tumbles from his lips in disjointed sentences as usual, and Kusanagi leans over his shoulder, dark eyes intent on the laptop’s screen. 

Radek watches his fellow scientists for a moment, trying to coax the smile off his lips in case one of them glances over again, because he does not want to announce that the gene therapy is working and then discover that the warmth is just his imagination or even a malfunction of the temperature controls. Still, while Radek is well aware that he is good at many things (not the least of which seems to be keeping a certain miserable little man from getting murdered by their fellow scientists), the thought that he might now be one of the elite fills him with a private euphoria. After all, being forced to rely on those with the gene whenever he needed to turn something Ancient on-- it got irritating after awhile and made him feel the slightest bit, well, _useless_ from time to time, which is why, when Carson announced that he had managed to raise the effectiveness of the gene therapy from forty-eight percent to sixty-three, Radek was one of the first in line for a second try. 

He absently rubs at the band-aid in the crook of his elbow and smiles again. If it turns out that the therapy has taken, he cannot wait to see how much he will be able to accomplish without being hindered by his inability to manipulate Ancient technology. 

The warmth is still there, and it feels as though it has settled under his skin like an extra layer of flesh, only this extra layer is made up of pure heat, warming his muscles and loosening knots in his shoulders he was unaware he’d had. 

Radek leans back in his chair, relaxing, even as Kusanagi frowns and jabs a finger at the screen. She mutters something disapproving in Japanese and Rodney rolls his eyes and says, “I don’t know the language, but I know the tone. My calculations are _perfect_.” This time the tiny, flint-eyed woman says something in her native tongue that sounds like she is insulting Rodney’s ancestry, and Radek just shakes his head as the two begin to bicker. 

The heat is almost like an itch now, and Radek finds himself shifting uncomfortably and resisting the urge to scratch, because it isn’t like he can reach under the skin and get at the warmth pervading his frame. “Is it warm in here?” he asks, but Kusanagi and Rodney don’t hear him and so don’t answer. Either that, or they're choosing to ignore him in favor of continuing their argument. 

The temperature beneath his skin is steadily rising, until he can feel perspiration breaking out on his forehead and the back of his neck, feel his throat drying out, feel the blood in his veins begin to heat up as well, and he closes his eyes, as though that will somehow stem this rising heat. 

Radek tugs at the neck of his shirt, but it doesn’t help, and he licks his lips, wondering if Kusanagi and Rodney are so distracted that they won’t notice him slipping off to a bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. He straightens, moves to stand, and that’s when he hears it, the slightest shift in the constant hum of Atlantis from something pleasantly mechanical (well, pleasant to the ears of an engineer anyway) to something _alive_. 

Radek freezes in place, breath stuttering in his throat, as his ears fill with a thousand different sounds he’s never heard before that have been hiding beneath the humming all this time. The sounds become syllables if he listens closely enough, and after a moment of absolute stillness and concentration, he realizes that Atlantis is murmuring, **So it’s you.** 

He can’t help but glance quickly around the room, at the corners of the lab, because Atlantis’s voice is everywhere, feminine, reaching to his very bones and making them ache from the intensity behind the murmured statement. Radek looks over at Rodney and Kusanagi, but they are still bent over the laptop, hands waving wildly; he cannot understand why they haven’t said anything in all the time they’ve been in Atlantis. How could Sheppard not tell them that Atlantis spoke to him? How could Carson? It seems -- no, it _is_inconceivable that every single gene-carrier would neglect to mention the staggering fact that Atlantis is sentient. 

He licks his lips, and moves to speak, but Atlantis cuts him off with a sharp, **Be silent.** There is a dark tone underlying the command, one that makes his breath catch in his throat again, makes him blink in a mixture of bemusement and alarm, because Atlantis almost sounds disdainful. And he can suddenly feel something beyond the sensation of a living Atlantis surrounding him (trapping him, a dark voice murmurs in the back of his head); he can feel her emotions, and _there_ is the contempt that he thought he heard in her command, along with a heavy mixture of cold fury and bitterness, and he realizes, his stomach twisting into knots, that Atlantis is not happy that the gene therapy worked. 

Questions want to escape his lips, like, “Why are you angry?” and “Why didn’t anyone mention you were sentient?” and especially “Why did you not want the gene therapy to work for _me_?” but he remembers her command and bites back the words that want to spill past his lips. Besides, the still-rising heat has dried out his throat to the point of almost-pain, and he doesn’t know if he could manage to get a word out even if he wanted to. 

He looks at Rodney and Kusanagi again, just in time for Kusanagi to fold her arms against her chest and snap something that sounds suspiciously like, “Kusottare!” and then she turns towards him, as though to appeal to Radek as the voice of reason. She opens her mouth to speak; then she pauses, frowns. When she speaks, her voice is soft and almost gentle. “Are you feeling all right, Dr. Zelenka?” 

Radek licks his lips, because he can feel Atlantis all around him, pressing in on him, a dark, angry presence, and he isn’t certain what the city will do if he disregards her earlier command and speaks. His gaze flickers to the corners of the room, and he tries to tell himself that Atlantis has not made the lab smaller, because surely Kusanagi or Rodney would have mentioned--

“Dr. Zelenka?” Kusanagi repeats, and the intangible anger smothering him suddenly shifts to what feels like malevolent glee, and Radek understands, with a flash of insight that makes his heart pound erratically in pure terror, what is going on. 

He may have had the gene therapy work, but he is not one of the _chosen_, and Atlantis will not abide his presence any longer. 

When Kusanagi takes a step towards him, he springs to his feet (or at least tries to, but the heat pulsing beneath his skin is making him dizzy, and it is really more of a lurch) and backs away from her, not fooled by her expression of mock-concern. After all, _she_ is one of the chosen, and she will do whatever Atlantis demands of her. This is why Sheppard did not tell Elizabeth about Atlantis speaking to him, why Rodney or Carson never breathed a word about a sentient Atlantis. They all obey the will of Atlantis, because they are her chosen ones. 

“Radek?” Rodney stares at him, his expression suggesting that he thinks Radek has gone mad, and that is so Rodney that it makes Radek want to weep and laugh all at once, but he does neither, just shakes his head and moves toward the door, toward freedom but not safety because safety is impossible when it is the city herself who is after you. 

The headset he is wearing suddenly buzzes to life, and he flinches as Carson’s voice, dripping with false concern, fills his ears. _“Radek? I need you back at the infirmary. It seems some are having an adverse reaction to the gene therapy. How are you feel--”_

He laughs. It is a harsh, ugly sound that scrapes its way past his dry throat and lips, and it makes both Rodney and Kusanagi flinch. “Adverse reaction,” he says, and his voice is raw as though he’s been shouting for hours. “Did you come up with that yourself?” 

_“Radek?”_ Carson says, sounding puzzled, and Radek laughs again, because otherwise he would weep, thinking of how open and honest Carson’s face and voice had always seemed to him before, and all this time-- all this time--

Rodney, still looking at Radek as though he’s deranged, taps his own headset and demands, “What type of adverse reaction?” It is pitiful, how far the chosen are going with this charade, and it makes Radek want to hit something, or scream, or run away from these people who are supposed to be his friends but are actually wolves in sheep’s clothing, ready to devour him.

He chooses the latter, turns and bolts for the door, ignoring Kusanagi and Rodney calling after him. He rips off his headset and tosses it aside even as Carson says, voice sharp with pseudo-anxiety (or perhaps it is true anxiety, because Radek has, after all, discovered the secret of Atlantis), _“--delusional, feverish--”_ and Radek cannot help but laugh, the harsh, hoarse sounds bubbling up from his chest and tasting of hysteria and grief all at once. 

He must tell Elizabeth, warn her of the control Atlantis has over those with the gene, and he begins to head towards the operations center, where he knows she will be, because she has to be _told_\--

“Hey, Dr. Z.” Lorne is smiling one of his casual, easy grins, and Radek feels a sharp swell of relief for a moment, because Lorne will believe him-- and then he remembers that Lorne has the gene and backs away, glancing behind him as he hears approaching footsteps.

There are Kusanagi and Rodney, faces pale, ready to shed their sheepskins and reveal themselves as the wolves they are.

He shakes his head despairingly even as Rodney opens his mouth and begins, “Radek, we need to get you to the infirmary--” because he hadn’t realized how many of the people he respected on Atlantis had the gene until now, when he can turn to none of them save for Elizabeth for help, and if it is simply him against the multitude, Radek knows he will not be believed. 

He hears movement behind him, and twists to the side before Lorne’s hand can come to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t,” he snaps, and it is Lorne’s turn to flinch at the sound of his broken voice, which is ragged and rasping. Radek is suddenly, indescribably angry, because this isn’t fair, this isn’t right -- Atlantis shouldn’t be manipulative and cruel, she should be -- no, she shouldn’t _be_ at all, because who needs a sentient city? He’s vaguely aware that he’s speaking, the words as sharp as knives as they force their way past his throat. “Don’t touch me, any of you -- such good liars, such well-taught wolves, so ready and eager to strike -- _don’t_\--” he says, his voice breaking on the last word, because Rodney is reaching for him. 

Atlantis’s cruel mirth is almost palpable now; the heat feels like it’s squirming beneath his skin, curling tendrils of warmth around the muscles and squeezing until the muscles seize up; he can feel her dark amusement pressing down upon his chest. It’s hard to breathe, hard to think clearly, and so Radek barely forces out another broken “Don’t” when Rodney’s hand touches his shoulder. 

Rodney frowns, and it is one of the familiar, anxious frowns that he wears whenever something disastrous has occurred or is bound to occur, like when the hurricane was about to obliterate them or when the Wraith were descending. “Jesus, Carson wasn’t kidding when he said feverish-- you’re burning up.” 

Rodney’s grip is gentle, and Radek can feel the very shape of his fingers through the shirt, the calluses built up over the years of typing too empathically at a hundred different keyboards. The temperature of Rodney’s skin is painfully cool; the piercing cold burns Radek’s skin and he is reminded of winters as a child, when he daringly made snowballs bare-handed, ignoring the way the freezing chill made the bones of his fingers ache. 

He feels his bones beginning to splinter and blacken under the onslaught of both the heat boiling his blood and the cold from Rodney’s touch that burrows beneath his skin, and is overwhelmed by the intense sensation of his blood boiling and turning to ice all at once, such an agonizing contradiction. He closes his eyes, dizzy from the sensation of his very bones starting to break beneath his skin, and Rodney’s grip tightens. It’s only when Rodney’s other arm wraps around his waist that Radek realizes that his legs have given out and that it is only Rodney’s hold on him which has kept him from slumping to his knees. 

Inside the walls, beneath the floor, in the heat shattering his bones, Atlantis laughs. 

Rodney is so cold, the chill fairly radiating off his frame, but the coolness on Radek’s skin is a mixture of pleasure and pain, and if he focuses on that, he can almost, almost forget the way his bones are crumbling to ash as every second goes by. Radek keeps his eyes shut, and breathes out something that could have been “Promiňte” or a million other things, but he suspects it is an apology because he knows there is no escape and that once he is gone, Rodney will have lost his buffer between him and the other scientists and Rodney will never forgive him for leaving him among “idiots.” 

As though Atlantis senses that he has given in, the malice that has been pressing down on him shifts to dark anticipation. Now she is just waiting for one of her chosen to do the deed. Radek wonders if it will be Rodney, whose arm is wrapped so tightly around his waist, or perhaps Carson, waiting in the infirmary with another needle. 

Rodney’s breath is like puffs of cool air against his cheek, and there is the vague sensation of pleasure again. He forces his eyes open to see Rodney’s expression. Rodney is still wearing the frown from before, his face pale and his eyes impossibly blue, and how has Radek never noticed how Rodney’s eyes are the same color as a crisp winter sky? 

He should say something, ask them to make it quick and as painless as possible, but instead he closes his eyes again and thinks of Prague, so exquisitely beautiful in the wintertime, of snowflakes catching in his sister’s hair as she laughs and tosses a half-finished snowball at him, of his mother scolding him from the steps of the apartment for forgetting to wear his gloves, of his father seizing him in his arms and enveloping him in warmth that eases the chill from his bones. 

“Radek,” Rodney says, and it’s like a prayer or a plea, but distant, as though Rodney is speaking in another room even though Radek can still feel the arm around his waist, and when Radek keeps his eyes shut, gradually even Rodney’s voice fades, until there is only the pain-pleasure of the burning cold, and soon even that fades into a numbness that is as black as the starless night sky. 

*

When Radek opens his eyes, it is to whiteness, and for a moment he is thrown backwards in time to childhood and thinks that he really is in Prague, out on the snow-covered streets without his gloves again. Then he realizes that it isn’t cold, and that there wouldn’t be a bed in the middle of the street. The infirmary, then. 

He tries to sit up, feeling damp and drained, and it is only then that he realizes he’s strapped down to the bed. Alarm makes his breath catch in his throat, and he opens his mouth to call for Carson, but his throat is as dry as a desert and all he can get out is a low croak. 

“Finally, someone to talk to,” a scratchy voice comments, and he turns his head to see Cadman on the bed next to him, a wan smile on her lips and a nasty-looking bruise on her jaw. She isn’t strapped to the bed. When he blinks at her, her smile widens. “Just give the nurses a second to realize you’re awake, and they’ll get those straps off.” 

Sure enough, one of the nurses is at his bedside a moment later, smiling warmly at him and undoing the straps, voice cheerful as she says, “I’ll let Dr. Beckett know you’re awake. I imagine you’d like some ice chips?” 

He manages a nod, and after a few ice chips, his throat unlocks enough for him to murmur a weak, “Hello,” when Carson appears by his bedside. The other man looks rumpled and exhausted, and there are lines of strain on his forehead that weren’t there the last time Radek saw his friend, just as there is an emotion darkening Carson’s face that Radek hasn’t seen so intense since Hoff -- guilt. 

“It looks like the new gene therapy has bad side effects for about fifteen percent of those who try it,” Carson says, before Radek can ask what is going on and why the last thing he remembers is heading to the infirmary to try the newest gene therapy. “You and Laura both had bad reactions.” 

Ah, that explains the self-reproach. “Don’t look so guilty, Carson. We knew there were risks when we agreed to try the gene therapy.” He smiles. “Besides, I do not remember any of the unpleasant reaction, so….” Only now that he mentions it, Radek feels a phantom sensation of heat beneath his skin, like an itch, and shifts uneasily on the bed, trying to banish the sensation into the recesses of his memory. 

He sits up, smiling at Carson until Carson smiles back, though it is a pitiful mimicry of the doctor’s usual smile. Of course, judging by the expression Cadman is currently wearing, she is quite prepared to beat the fact that they were aware of the risks involved into his head until it finally sinks in, and Radek knows that if anyone can get Carson to stop blaming himself, it’s her. 

Rodney’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and Radek blinks as Rodney appears at the foot of his bed, looking just as rumpled as Carson, albeit less guilt-stricken and more disgruntled, and Radek is amused when he notices a smudge of oil on Rodney’s face. 

Rodney raises an eyebrow and folds his arms against his chest. “Well? No longer delirious, I’m guessing.” 

Radek raises his hands and wiggles his fingers, ignoring a memory of half-mad fear and anger that had something to do with the phantom sensation of heat that pushes to the forefront of his mind. “I do not think they would have freed me otherwise, Rodney.” 

Rodney snorts, but luckily doesn’t go on a rant about Carson’s voodoo medicine, because if he had, Radek suspects Cadman would have gotten violent on her boyfriend’s behalf. “We figured out the problem with the energy consumption for Level Two, by the way. Kusanagi is fixing the problem right now.” 

“Level Two?” Radek says blankly, and then has a sudden image of Kusanagi and Rodney bent over a laptop, arguing, and the empty space in his memory slowly begins to refill with thoughts and images, most of them unpleasant. “Oh, right. What was the problem?” He resettles himself against the pillows as Carson shakes his head and goes over to stand by Cadman’s bed, murmuring something to her that earns a quiet laugh that is probably at Rodney’s expense. 

Rodney launches into his explanation, hands gesturing wildly as he recounts the details and what had led him and Kusanagi to discover what had been using so much energy. 

Radek closes his eyes, the wild gestures making him a little dizzy. He opens his eyes a moment later when a soft, uncertain hand touches his wrist, and Rodney has moved from the foot of his bed to right next to his head, a tight, worried look on his face. “Was just resting my eyes,” he offers, and watches the worry lines on Rodney’s face smooth out. “Please, continue the explanation.” 

Rodney clears his throat, and begins speaking once more, his fingers still lightly gripping his wrist, as though Rodney is reassuring himself that Radek won’t dissolve into mist should he let go. His hand is warm and slightly damp, and Radek finds that the touch does ground him. It even dams the rush of memories that have started to clutter up his head. 

The soft humming of Atlantis fills his ears, combining with the almost lyrical rise and fall of Rodney’s voice, and he thinks that he has never heard such a soothing sound before. He smiles warmly at Rodney, and after a pause, Rodney smiles back, and Radek lets the sound of Atlantis and Rodney’s voice wash over him. 

**_You are ice and fire, the touch of you burns my hands like snow._  
~Amy Lowell**

_Kusottare_ -- bastard, asshole (Japanese)   
_Promiňte_ -- I’m sorry (Czech)


End file.
